Chapter 43

We stepped out of the dance studio, our bodies buzzing with energy and our faces flushed with exertion. It had been an amazing ninety minutes but now I was starving. I had skipped lunch in anticipation of dinner.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"I'm famished," I answered.

"I had planned to take you to a nice restaurant, but if you're hungry, we can just grab whatever is close."

"I can wait," I told him.

He laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "It's okay to say you're hungry. I'm starving. I think there's a burger joint on the corner."

We opted to walk instead of trying to find somewhere to park and waste more time. He held my hand as we walked down the block. It was nice.

He pulled open the door and let me go in first. The aroma of sizzling meat greeted us as we entered the small diner. I nearly moaned aloud. A waitress hustled by carrying two plates with big, juicy burgers and fries. My mouth watered and I was tempted to snatch one of the plates and shove the burger down my throat.

"Damn, that looks good," Archer said close to my ear. "I think it's a seat ourselves."

We slid into a booth and waited. Thankfully, there were only a few people in the diner. A waitress quickly came over to take our orders. We sipped on our water while we waited.

"You know, I've been to other weddings and no one has ever really paid much attention to the dancing," I said. "I think you might be paranoid about people watching you."

He chuckled lightly, running his hand through his hair in a self-conscious way. "Maybe you're right," he admitted. "It's just something I'll have to overcome, I suppose."

The waitress chose that moment to return with our food. We both gave appreciative hums as she set the plates down in front of us. The burgers were just as juicy as they had looked on the other customers' plates and the fries were golden and crispy.

"Thank you," I said without taking my eyes off the plate.

Once she walked away, I realized this was going to be very messy business.

"I think I need to provide a disclaimer," I said as I eyed the burger, planning my attack.

"A disclaimer?" He popped a fry into his mouth.

I longed to be a man in that moment. He could dig into the burger like a caveman, and no one would care. I was a lady. I was supposed to be dainty.

"I'm really hungry," I said. "Like really hungry. I'm going to dig into this. Don't judge me."

He laughed. "Dig in. I've been to prison. Everyone shoves their food down before someone else can steal it. Nothing you do will make me feel any different about you. I'm still going to think you're hot."

"We'll see," I murmured and picked up the double cheeseburger with the special sauce and all the fixings. I opened my mouth like a snake unhinging its jaw and took a big bite. The burger was perfect, the juicy, seasoned meat mingling with the tang of the special sauce and the crunch of the fresh lettuce and pickles. The cheese was melted just right. I was pretty sure it was the best burger I had ever eaten.

Maybe I had just worked up an appetite dancing with Archer.

As I chewed and savored the explosion of flavors, he watched me with an amused smile on his face. "See?" he said, taking a bite of his own burger. "I told you it wouldn't change anything. I'm sitting here still thinking about you naked and what I want to do with your body."

I giggled around the mouthful. "We'll see how you're feeling when I start licking my fingers. This sauce is incredible."

"Shit, woman, if you're trying to get me to drag you into the bathroom for a quickie, it's working."

I laughed. "Burger first."

I took a drink and washed down the burger. After that, there weren't many words spoken between us as we devoured our meals. Occasionally, we would share a look or a smile across the table, our eyes carrying on an entire conversation that our mouths were too busy to participate in.

Once I got halfway through my plate, my hunger subsided just a bit. "So, did you talk to your dad again?" I asked him.

"No. I talked to Murray. He's going to put together a briefing of sorts for me."

"When are you supposed to start working?" I asked.

"Nothing is set in stone just yet," he answered.

"Do you want the job?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "You don't strike me as the kind of man that wears a suit and goes to an office every day."

"Before I went to prison, I was a business major," he explained. "The plan was always for me to take over the business with Murray. Then I went up the river and things got messy."

"Does he need both of you?" I asked.

"It's a big company," he answered. "Typically, a CEO would be fine and then there would be an assistant or vice president or something like that. But my dad is very weird about the business. He wants it in the family. He doesn't want to hire an outsider. He thinks the outsider will usurp him or Murray or me if I'm at the helm. The plan is for the two of us to take over."

"Blood is thicker than water." I nodded.

"Something like that," he said.

"I'm glad your parents are seeing the value in keeping you in the company," I said. "Good for you. You worked hard to prove yourself."

He winced and shook his head. "I haven't proven myself to all of them. My mom is still not on board with it. She wouldn't even come talk to me when I was at the house."

My heart squeezed hearing him talk. "I'm sorry. Why? What is the problem?"

"My mom doesn't just see it as a crime violating the law," he explained. "She sees it as a personal crime against her. She thinks I purposely set out to humiliate her."

"That's terrible," I said, my voice thick with sympathy. "And not true."

"I know it's not true," he replied, his jaw set firmly as if bracing himself against a blow. "But trying to convince her of that is like talking to a brick wall."

I reached out across the table and gently touched his hand. "I'm really sorry, Archer."

He didn't pull his hand away, but I felt him flinch slightly before he slowly relaxed under my touch. He shrugged. "It is what it is. I've been trying to make things right ever since I got out. But it's proving harder than I thought."

"So if she doesn't approve of you, you can't work for the family business?"

"That's about the gist of it."

"No way! Does your mom work for the company?"

He shook his head. "Not really. She doesn't really have anything to say about it, but she will object to my father letting me back in. She still hates me."

"If your dad came around, do you think there is a chance your mom will?"

"Possibly," he said with a half-smile. "My dad came around because of you."

"Me?" I asked with confusion.

"He said if I could prove myself worthy of a good woman like you, I could also prove myself worthy of stepping into the family business."

I felt the color drain from my face as I processed his words. Worthy of me? What did that even mean? It felt like an outdated notion, as if my value as a woman was somehow tied to Archer's success. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly feeling the weight of expectation bearing down on me. What if my judgment was off? We had only been seeing each other for a short time. I didn't think I should be the litmus test of his trustworthiness.

Archer must have noticed my discomfort because he reached out to reassure me. "You're pale" he said. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know how to say it."

"Say it." He shrugged. "I want you to speak plainly."

"It's just—I don't know. I know you, but I don't know you. I don't think I'm the person that should be used as judge and jury to decide your trustworthiness."

"My father's decision wasn't solely dependent on our relationship," he said. "If I fuck up, my dad isn't going to come after you. That's on me. My dad isn't foolish enough to assume that I'm reformed because I managed to convince a good woman to give me the time of day."

"Your value is not based on what I think," I told him. "That's a lot of pressure on me."

"Don't feel pressured," he said. "None of that matters. We are still us. This thing we have doesn't change. I'm grateful for you regardless of the outcome."

The unease lingered in the pit of my stomach.

"You say that, Archer," I responded slowly, trying to find the right words. I didn't want this to end before it ever got started. "But what if things don't work out between us? What if we decide it's not right, or that we're not meant to be?"

He was silent for a moment. "That's a chance I'm willing to take," he finally said, his voice soft. "I've messed up a lot in my life and I know that. If things don't work out, it won't be because of you."

"That's not fair!" I protested. "You can't just put this all on yourself. It doesn't work like that."

"I'm not putting it all on myself," he countered. "I'm simply taking responsibility for my own actions, as I should. I'm not saying it wouldn't hurt if we didn't work out. Of course it would. But the choice to change is mine and mine alone."

Archer's gaze was steady, solid even in the face of uncertainty. I found myself wrestling with a wave of admiration for him. His willingness to shoulder his past mistakes and turn things around was commendable, no doubt about that, but how much of our relationship was being influenced by this need of his to prove himself? I didn't want to be a trophy or one of those chips people used to prove they had turned over a new leaf.

"You are a very responsible person," I said. "I don't care what anyone else says about you. You did your time. You've taken full responsibility. I admire that."

"Thank you."

We both continued to eat our burgers. Maybe I was overthinking things. Perhaps I was reading too much into a passing comment. His dad was merely pointing out he was different.

"So, if you do start working at the company, what does that mean for you?" I asked.

"I honestly don't know." He shrugged. "But I suppose it means starting fresh. It's a chance to prove I'm not the same man I once was. To show him, and the world, that I can be trusted, that I have changed. That I can live up to my birthright."

"I have no doubt you will," I said. "I'm trying to picture you sitting at a desk wearing a suit and tie."

He laughed. "When you get that picture in your head, let me know. I still can't see myself doing it."

"Will you and Murray divide responsibilities?"

"I honestly don't know," he said. "I haven't really thought about it. I'm sure Murray has some idea about how he wants to split the responsibilities. I haven't worked at the company since before I went to prison. I don't know all the ins and outs."

I smiled confidently. "But you'll figure it out."